Obliviate
by ox-dancindarlin-xo
Summary: Draco and Hermione begin a relationship, with horrendous consequences. Rating may go up.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: All rights and characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros™. Nothing is mine but the creativity and storyline.  
**  
_**A/N: Hello again! Wow, so I'm not dead. Sorry I haven't updated anything in so long, I'll try my best! . I just had to write this story down though; it'll play on my mind forever if I don't. I actually got this idea off a YouTube video I made (I'll put the link at the end of the chapter, if you don't want to ruin the storyline then don't watch), so I hope you enjoy it. Here we go.**_

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Obliviate – Prologue

To onlookers, it was a mystery why the two figures were running. Where they running away from something? Towards something? For the fun of it? Who knew? The onlookers certainly didn't. That's probably why no one questioned them as they darted around the halls, weaving in and out of tapestries and pillars and dashing around corners; their whole forms a blur. But if someone took a moment to closely look at their faces as they flitted past, they would see a darker reason for their running. If someone took the moment to study their clothes, they'd wonder why one of them had blood over their shawl, and why one had a large rip in his dressy, expensive-looking jacket.

But no one looked. And those that did only saw what they wanted to see. It seemed as though the two figures had nothing, and no one, to turn to in their obvious hour of need. Well, it would have been obvious to anyone looking closely enough.

But no one did.

The two only stopped running when they reached their destination. It only took them one apparation, a long road, a skip over a wall, eighteen hallways, two courtyards and four flights of stairs. _Only_. But after all that, they were evidently relieved to both have reached where they wanted to be, and to have stopped running. They had been running non-stop for quite a while. They stayed strong, for some unapparent reason; perhaps they knew this wasn't actually the end? Perhaps just the beginning?

They both stood on the Astronomy tower, the very place where everything began, their legs shaking from the stress of it all, their faces flushed and shiny with sweat, their feet aching and their chests sore with their battered lungs. The blood pounded in their ears, their hearts slamming against their ribcages, their heavy, uneven breaths the only thing except the harsh winter air to cut the silence between them. Neither said anything, just stood trying to catch their breath.

The tallest of them was the first to act. He strode over, hurriedly, to the railing at the side of the tower, and frantically examined the ground below. His brunette companion found nothing strange in his behaviour. In fact, she did the same on the railing adjacent to his. Both of them were so preoccupied, they hadn't noticed the light dusting of snow on the rail that had now melted on their hands to join the cold water on the bottom of the blonde's trousers, and the female's dress. Even if they had noticed, neither would have cared.

Still, there was silence between them. No words were exchanged. It was as if they didn't need them – communication was beneath the situation at the moment.

Once the blonde was confident that there was nothing left on the ground to scan for, he looked up at the setting sun and the pink-tinged snow clouds forming around it. It made the snow on the ground glisten beautifully. But when he looked over to the brunette and found her looking at him anxiously, he saw how the orange glow of the sunlight made her face blaze radiantly, accentuating her soft, full lips and her large chocolate brown eyes. Her eyelashes were short and spiky, still wet with the tears she'd shed earlier that evening – as were her cheeks. They were flawed by faded black trails down her face, which flowed over a bright red, glowing hand-mark that was visible even with her post-running flush. It flared up the anger within him another time that night.

"Hermione," he sighed, his tone laced with concern, "Hermione, are you alright?" Stepping towards her, he reached out his hand to touch her damaged cheek. She flinched away from him, never taking her eyes off his face. He watched as they glazed over again, as if another set of tears was waiting to leak through. He stopped himself, his hand hovering in dead air for a second, before Hermione bolted towards him, her arms suddenly wrapped tightly around his torso and her face buried into his shoulder. The boy returned this desperate, firm embrace almost immediately, holding onto her just as tightly as she held onto him. He felt her shake within his arms, her sobs racking down to her very core. He buried his face in her mane of curls and squeezed his eyes tight to stop the tears that he felt coming, as well.

They didn't know how long they'd just stood there like that, holding one another, but eventually Hermione managed to contain her bawling and calmed down considerably. It pained him to let go of her, especially in her fragile state, but he had to make sure she was safe. Her safety was above all else to him.

He released her from their hug, only to quickly revert his touch to her arm, and as he gently turned it over his stomach churned with anger once more. Anger and disgust, this time. And guilt, yes; immense guilt. _This was all his fault_.

Abruptly, he tore himself away from the girl in question, ending up a few feet away with his head to the floor and his back to her, giving her a perfect display of some of the blood she had accidently left on him, and the large rip in the shoulder of his jacket. It was a wonder his sleeve had staged attached, there were only a few threads holding the garment together.

Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach, and another single, silent tear rolled down her cheek, tracing the black lines perfectly. She looked down at the arm the blonde boy had just touched, and saw the one word that had haunted her her whole life carved into her arm – mudblood. Blood had trailed down her arm until her whole hand was crimson, and occasionally droplets fell from her wrist and onto the floor. Little did she know that one day she would go back up to the Astronomy Tower only to see the blood stains in the stone and wonder how they got there.

She moistened her dry, split lips and used her throat for something besides screaming for the first time in what felt like an eternity. "Draco?"

Draco physically flinched at the use of his name, and remained with his back to her. He shuddered slightly, and Hermione wandered if he was crying. She stepped towards him just once and blinked her tears away. "D-Draco, please–,"

One of Draco's racked, distressed sobs cut her off, and Hermione felt her heart twinge again in her chest. It was still pounding.

The former turned around sharply and faced the former. Hermione gasped, before silence fell upon them once more.

In Draco's hand, he held his wand. And he was pointing it at Hermione.

The air was thick around them, musty with the confusion and trauma of that night's events. Both were pained, emotionally and physically, yet neither could comfort the other without the situation that led them to these particular turn of events growing worse. But these two wizards were clever. Hermione knew what Draco planned to do the minute she saw his wand – and Draco had known what had to be done for a while now. There was no avoiding it.

This was it. It was over.

Hermione watched Draco's hand shake violently. So violently, in fact, it roused worry within her for the boy; rather than worry for herself. She wasn't worried for herself at all, to be quite frank. But then again, she knew that whatever came next couldn't hurt her. Well, not the easy part of it anyway.

Getting ripped away from Draco would hurt a _lot_.

And then her next thought caused her tears to jerk into motion again. Sure, it wouldn't hurt her, not one bit. But the pain that she knew would reside within Draco was devastating to her. Her heart hurt, and it was heavy in her chest. It still beat frantically, but not from breathlessness anymore.

Draco's tear ducts mimicked Hermione's. This only infuriated him, if not defeat him slightly, and he wavered slightly, before pointing his wand at her with an even more determined expression than before. His hand had stopped shaking now, but his face said more than anything else ever could.

Hermione wanted to comfort him in their last moments together.

"Draco," She whispered her voice coarse and watery, "I..._ love_ you."

Draco nodded just once, his bottom lip curling up and trembling and his tears free-flowing now, "I love you too, Hermione." He whispered, in such a way that it pained him to say it.

Without warning, he spoke the one spell that would effectively ruin his life in a mere matter of seconds.

"_Obliviate_."

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_**A/N: So! There's my prologue! Mwahahaha! Hope you liked it! And here is the link for the YouTube video this story is based on (again, if you don't want to know the storyline, don't watch it, but feel free to if you wish):**_

**_ y o ut u be .com [forward slash] watch?v=zRokr7n5b1A_**

_**Kelly xxx**_


	2. Unwilling Students

**Disclaimer: All rights and characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros™. Nothing is mine but the creativity and storyline. **

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Obliviate – Unwilling Students

**1**

"You wanted to see me, Professor?"

Albus Dumbledore looked up from his desk and up at the entrant through his half-moon glasses. "Ah yes! Miss Granger, take a seat." He greeted, with a welcoming smile, which Hermione returned, if not a little nervously.

Hermione hadn't been in Dumbledore's office for a whole year – well, not for anything bad, anyway. It seemed as though this year at Hogwarts was going well for her so far, and she honestly didn't want to ruin her record. Although she couldn't recollect anything that she might have done wrong to land herself in the Headmaster's office, but she couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. She tried not to show it though, but even she herself knew that it was a lost cause with the greatest Wizard in the Wizarding World.

She stepped across his office and her footsteps echoed around the large room. Fawkes made a gentle clicking sound with his beak (Hermione hoped it was his way of a greeting) before she sat down on the chair Dumbledore had gestured to, her eyes subconsciously dropping to her hands in her lap.

Dumbledore smiled at her knowingly. "There is no need to worry, Miss Granger," this soothed her immensely, and she outwardly relaxed, "I only called you in here today to ask a favour of you."

At this, Hermione tensed up again. If this favour was anything like the favours Dumbledore asked of Harry then she was in for trouble. She swallowed the developing lump in her throat and moistened her lips. "Favour, Professor?" She asked, her voice a higher note than necessary and her hands clasping around the hem of her skirt.

Dumbledore chuckled whole-heartedly and continued, "Nothing dangerous, I assure you." He stood up and manoeuvred around his desk until he came to a shelf on the wall adjacent to his chair. He picked up a small tin from the shelf and opened it. Then, sharing a private smile with himself, he removing a small black and white sweet from the tin and popping it in his mouth. He then turned the tin towards Hermione, "Humbug?" he asked, smiling.

She looked up at him and noticed what he was offering. She paused. "Uh, no thankyou, Professor."

Dumbledore hummed gently, before placing the tin back on the shelf and taking his seat at his desk once more. "Miss Granger, I am aware you have a free period before Dinner on Monday and Tuesday every week, is that correct?"

The brunette nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And you use that period for studying purposes, yes?" Hermione only nodded in response this time. Dumbledore mimicked her gesture before continuing, "Well, I understand from Mr Weasley that you are talented with the piano." The headmaster observed her over the tops of his glasses and smiled knowingly. Hermione felt her face burn. She avoided his gaze. "And," he went on, "I want you to use your free period as time to teach First Years the piano, is that alright?"

Hermione took a second to absorb this information, and snapped her head up to look up at him once more. Then, her eyes widened and she leant forward in her chair, almost immediately thinking of nothing other than, "But, Professor, what about my studying?"

The bearded man chuckled again, "I will grant you permission to study in the library at any other time you wish, even after hours." Hermione's face visibly lit up. "Is that alright with you, Miss Granger?" He repeated, the tone in his voice suggesting this was no longer a request.

"Oh, definitely!" Hermione replied without hesitation, obviously much happier now, "I won't mind that at all, Professor!" She sat back in her chair again; content but still a little unsure, "As long as I am still able to study, then that's absolutely fine."

Dumbledore nodded once, a small smile on his elderly lips. "Good, I'm glad to hear it," the Professor stood up and began walking towards his office door. Hermione's eyes followed him around the room. "I shall escort you out Miss Granger, I am afraid I have a lot of Headmaster duties to attend to," He chuckled a little to himself, and continued walking as Hermione stood up from her chair and skipped a little to catch up with him, her eyes on her shoes. "However, if you ever feel the need to speak to me about anything – anything at all –," he stressed this last part vigorously, "then just remember the hard sweet I offered you earlier."

Hermione looked up to him and smiled gently, knowing exactly what he was talking about. They both came to a stop at the door, "Of course. Thankyou, Professor." She said curtly, before the door magically opened and let Hermione slip out. Just as she began stepping down the steps, she heard a click and some footsteps behind her. When she turned, she noticed that Dumbledore had also left his office and had locked it behind him.

"Like I said," the elderly man began as he stuffed his wand back into his robes, "I have Headmaster duties to attend to."

**2**

Draco sighed – long and thorough. From beside him, Crabbe snored loudly and hoarsely. The sound irritated the blonde boy immensely, but he would much rather listen to Crabbe's snoring than the mindless drabble that Professor Trelawney was spewing out. He hated Divination. What would Divination be used for later in life anyway? He wanted to be a Healer, not a crackpot old school Professor. Draco came to the conclusion that Dumbledore must have felt sorry for her to give her this job, because she most certainly was not good at it. _Second sight_? Draco snorted in derision under his breath. Maybe she should spend less time working on her vision and more time working on mending her dead brain cells.

Well, on second thoughts, it was probably too late for that.

He sat up slightly, and looked at the back of Blaise's head. Why he was so intent of sitting infront of him every lesson was bewildering, but in Divination Draco really couldn't care less what he could and could not see. At this point, Blaise's skull was much more interesting than Professor Trelawney. Has his hair gotten darker?

Draco sat back in his chair, resting his chin on his arms folded across the desk. He sighed once more, and felt his teeth grind in his jaw as another rumbling snore emerged from Crabbe on his left. Suddenly, Crabbe jolted awake, followed by a loud wail of surprise, which made Draco jump as well. It didn't take him long to realise that the wail hadn't came from Crabbe, as he looked over and saw Professor Trelawney staring intently at the lump of lard beside him. Draco just scoffed, before he turned back to rest on his arms again, paying no attention to whatever it was the teacher had to say.

Only seconds later, however, Crabbe nudged him to get his attention. Feeling his irritation grow again, he turned to Crabbe and snapped, "_What_?" but when he looked at Crabbe, Crabbe wasn't looking back at him. Crabbe was fixated on Trelawney who was stood beside him, immensely still. Draco followed his gaze and looked up at the woman. He noticed that behind her glasses, her eyes had welled up with tears. She was staring right at him. Why him?

He couldn't lock his gaze with the teachers any longer, so he averted his eyes to his fellow classmates. They were all staring in his direction, some at him and some at Trelawney. His eyebrows knit, both with confusion and with frustration. What on Earth was this batty coot doing now?

As he thought this, she moved and suddenly came to stand beside him. He looked up at her and saw her blinking away her tears, seemingly snapped out of her 'trance'. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "My boy," she said in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, "I am indeed very sorry for any misfortune that shall be placed upon you." Although her voice was gentle and reassuring, Draco only found that it frustrated him further. It was of course nothing serious, just Trelawney being her crazy old self.

Sneering, he snatched his shoulder from her grasp. He still watched her, and she seemed to compose herself immensely, and tore her gaze away from his to face the rest of the class and give them a watery smile. "Now, where was I?" She mumbled to herself, slowly making her way back to the front of the classroom.

Draco heard Crabbe snigger from beside him. He growled lowly in his throat and turned to hurl a sharp insult, "What do you find so funny? Has dear old mummy bought another gallon of lard for you–,"

There was a knock at the door that cut him off. The whole class looked up to the source of the sound, and saw the door open to show Professor Dumbledore standing there, his hand absent-mindedly stroking his beard.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt Sybill, but may I take Mr Malfoy for a moment?" At this, all eyes were on Draco for the second time that lesson.

"W-why yes, of course." Trelawney said, nodding vigorously. Dumbledore turned to smile at Draco welcomingly. It didn't make him feel any better.

He stood up promptly and swaggered across the classroom. As he passed the woman Professor, he could have sworn that she shrunk inside herself a little as he walked past. Without looking back, he closed the door and was alone with Dumbledore outside in the corridor.

"I suppose you're wondering why I called you out of your lesson, Draco," the Headmaster said, his voice low and somewhat sombre, yet it still had its optimistic undertone.

Draco just shrugged and dropped his gaze down to the floor. "I suppose," He said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "But anything is better than Divination."

"You don't care for the subject?" Dumbledore asked sincerely. Draco just shook his head. "What is it you wish to do when you leave Hogwarts, Mr Malfoy?"

Draco looked up at the old man. The tone in his voice suggested he expected a certain answer from him, as if he already had a good idea of what Draco wanted from life. Draco knew that he had no idea. He had no idea about him at all.

_Wise_? _Ha_. Draco thought, solemnly.

He glared the man straight in the face. "Malfoy is just my family name, Professor. I have my own mind; not the mind of my family." Dumbledore just looked at the boy, his eyebrow slightly raised. Draco continued. "I wish to be a Healer when I leave Hogwarts, and I'm sure a man like yourself must know that I don't need Divination to become a Healer. Does this have anything to do with why you brought me out of lesson, sir?"

The corner of the latter's mouth turned upwards slightly, and his eyes gleamed. Quickly, he shook his head. "No, pardon my curiosity Mr Malfoy, I was prying. My apologies." Although his expression seemed sincere, Draco said nothing. The headmaster pressed on, "The reason I called you out of lesson was to offer you the chance to engage in some extra-curricular activities." Draco's interest plummeted immediately. Sensing this, Dumbledore added, "During the school timetable, of course."

The blonde was intrigued. During school timetable? Didn't that mean he got out of lesson early?

"However, I am regretful to say that it would mean you miss your Muggle Studies lessons on a Monday and Tuesday."

Only one lesson of Muggle Studies a week? What had Draco done to deserve such rewards? He praised Merlin silently, before looking up at the Professor before him. "What are these extra-curricular activities?" He asked, finally interested.

Dumbledore smiled to himself in triumph. He cleared his throat in mock-anxiety. "Well, when I say activities I do only mean one lesson twice a week instead of Muggle Studies. It would include you taking piano lessons."

"Piano lessons?" Draco asked, somewhat put out, yet elated at the same time. Piano lessons? That was all? Dumbledore nodded. Draco shrugged. "Well, I have always been interested in learning piano."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said with glee, clapping his aged hands together. "Shall we go meet your teacher?"

Draco was a little taken aback. He'd never heard of Dumbledore taking someone out of their lesson like this before. It did seem a little odd to him, but something that was going to favour him for the best. He misses the end of Divination _and_ he gets out of two lessons studying filthy Muggles – what could be better?

Without looking back at the classroom he had just left, he said, "I think we shall, Professor."

**3**

The two Wizards ended up outside another classroom some far away across the castle. Draco couldn't recollect a time where he'd spent this long with Dumbledore alone before. He wasn't always in and out of his office like Potter, Weasley and Granger. It was beneath him to suck up to people, like they did. Even the thought of those three made his teeth grind in his jaw. He couldn't even remember what made him hate them so much, really. Except that Potter was a flouncy show off, and Weasley was a Blood Traitor (and just a Weasley in general) and, of course, that Granger was a filthy little Mudblood.

Oh, it seems he could remember after all.

But the thought of missing out on his lessons was enough to make Draco ease up a little, and he turned his attention to the elderly man now peeping into the door of the classroom before them, much like he had done in his Divination class to collect him. So his 'teacher' was another student. Draco hummed to himself thoughtfully.

Peering around Dumbledore, he caught a glimpse of some of the students in the classroom. He saw Padma Patil and Loony Lovegood sitting a few seats from the front behind that other Ravenclaw girl who hangs around with Potter – the one with the dark hair. Chang, was it?

He didn't particularly care. He was just glad that he wouldn't be getting taught by another Slytherin; he would never hear the end of that. Or a Gryffindor by that matter, he doubted he'd hear the end of that one either.

Suddenly, he saw Dumbledore begin to back out of the classroom with a student in tow. "It seems I have bothered you twice in one day Miss Granger, I do apologise."

Miss Granger?

"That's quite alright, Professor. I can't wait to meet my first student. I'll try to make it as comfortable as possible for them, being a First Year and all."

_Miss Granger_?! Asin, _Hermione_ Granger?!

"Well, that is considerate of you, Hermione."

At this point, Dumbledore came to a standstill, and Hermione came out from behind him. Upon seeing Draco, Hermione's smile quickly melted away, replaced by a sneer worthy of the one that Draco was throwing her at that precise moment. It only lasted a second, however, as Hermione turned back to the Professor and asked, "Professor? Where is the First Year student?"

"You're looking at him." Draco said, his voice monotonic and with a cruel edge. He folded his arms across his chest and stood up a little straighter, "A few years further along the evolutionary scale, though."

Hermione laughed sarcastically and retorted dryly, "I think you'll find you're a few years _behind_, Malfoy."

"How _dare_ you–,"

"Now now, Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger." Dumbledore interrupted sternly, his gaze switching between the two livid students, "If you two are to take piano lessons together you must behave civilised."

"Take piano lessons together?" Draco snorted, "You must be joking!"

"But Mr Malfoy, you agreed–,"

"Yeah? Well I don't anymore." At this, Draco turned to leave, but after just a few paces, he heard Dumbledore speak.

"Mr Malfoy, need I remind you of our lesson plan agreement?"

Draco continued walking. "I don't care." He called over his shoulder, "I'd take Trelawney over a _Mudblood_ any day."

Dumbledore's voice turned grave and his expression grew darker. "Detention, Mr Malfoy."

Draco stopped in his tracks and spun around on his heel. "What?!"

Hermione smirked. Draco Malfoy with detention? She felt positively delighted.

The headmaster replied to the boy, his tone matter-of-factly, "You have detention today and tomorrow during fourth period." Dumbledore suddenly grew more cheerful, "Which just so happens to be during the time of Miss Granger's free period, in which she agreed to give piano lessons."

Hermione's smirk faltered immediately and she looked up at the Professor beside her with pleading eyes. "But sir, I thought I would be teaching First Years."

Dumbledore's cheeks turned a darker shade of pink than usual. Whether it was genuine or just a trick for effect, Hermione wasn't sure. "Well, I am afraid I told you a little white lie there, Miss Granger. In fact, Mr Malfoy is the only person you will be teaching."

"Like hell she will!" Draco snarled from a few feet down the corridor, his face an absolute picture of anger. If Hermione wasn't so angry at him for being a spoilt little brat then it might have frightened her – or amused her.

Dumbledore's ambiance darkened once more. "I think you'll find she will be, Mr Malfoy."

"You can't force me! Detention or no detention, she's not having anything to do with me." He switched his gaze from Dumbledore and Hermione and saw her heated expression. He returned it with an enraged face of his own, and turned once more to bound away from the old man and the brunette. Hermione said nothing in retort.

"Oh, Mr Malfoy?" Dumbledore called after him, his tone still dark but lighter in a way that made Hermione suspicious. Draco kept walking. "Need I remind you of the upcoming Quidditch match against Gryffindor in a few weeks?" Draco stopped dead in his tracks. Hermione couldn't help but smirk at the nerve that Dumbledore had known he would hit. But it still lessened her heart to know that she would have to teach Malfoy. But she wanted the extra studying permissions – and a job that is hard is a job worth doing.

Draco said nothing, nor turned to look at the Professor, but he knew he was listening, "You will attend your detentions this week, and every lesson on Monday and Tuesday fourth period, including today, or you give up your Quidditch permissions." Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "Good luck," He said, winking a wrinkled eye at her.

Hermione couldn't even muster a smile. She watched Dumbledore walk away before he disappeared around a corner, and looked from him to the boy who was still stood in shock at the bottom of the corridor. Her face dropped into a grimace, and she felt her insides churn with disappointment. Draco Malfoy was to be her student? She groaned outwardly. These few weeks were going to be terrible.

As the pair stood there, the silence around them was quickly filled with a small rumble of chatter and footsteps, and the two classrooms around them opened and streams of students poured out. Both Draco and Hermione sighed.

Only one more lesson prolonged the time between now and the lessons they were being forced to indulge in.

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_**A/N: YAY! Okay so this is a LOOOOONG one, I hope you all enjoy it! I know it's rather slow but I couldn't think of any other way to write it. Anyway, you got to see a lot of our beloved Headmaster. What could his intentions be? Why begin these lessons?**_

_**THIS IS ONLY CHAPTER ONE, OMG.**_

**_The next will come shortly! Reviews please?_**

_**Kelly xxx**_


	3. The First Lesson

**Disclaimer: All rights and characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros™. Nothing is mine but the creativity and storyline. **

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Obliviate – The First Lesson

**2**

Unfortunately for Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, they both had Potions class before the dreaded piano lessons were sure to begin. And asif spending first lesson together wasn't enough – oh, how it infuriated him when she flitted about Charms class like she owned the place. Much like he did at Potions, Hermione observed, which angered her just as much. However, they were both thankful that after Lunch there were no more lessons together, and they found that something to look forward to.

While in Potions, Professor Snape had split the classroom up into two segments to study the mental-altering potions they were going to brew today. Of course, the class was already accurately segregated from the students own seating arrangement – Gryffindors on one side and Slytherins on the other. Because of this, the two Houses had separate Potions to brew. The Slytherins were assigned with a complex Memory Potion, while Gryffindors were assigned with a Calming Draught. Hermione found this quite insulting. It was, indefinitely, the easier potion out of the two. It only irritated her further whenever she looked over the other side of the classroom to see Malfoy strutting around with confidence that his potion was of perfect condition. Hermione tutted. That was probably only because he refused to let Crabbe or Goyle help, although she didn't really blame him; she knew she wouldn't either.

At her table, Harry had just added three drops of Bulbadox juice to their cauldron, which then immediately turned the liquid inside to a light shade of beige. Harry's expression turned to one of concern. He looked directly at Hermione. "Was that right?" He asked, tentatively, his eyes large behind his glasses. Hermione smiled and nodded once. This outwardly made Harry calm, and he turned back to the instructions infront of him. Ron wasn't focussed on the potion, however – he was staring at Hermione, his brow furrowed inquisitively.

"Hermione?"

The girl in question tore her gaze from the Slytherin table across the room and diverted her eyes to the boy that had spoken. She smiled gently to show she was listening. Ron continued, his tone just as sceptical as his expression.

"Why do you keep staring at Malfoy?" At the mention of the latter's name, Harry, too, became interested in this conversation, and snapped his head up to switch his gaze between his two friends, clutching a large dandelion root in his hand anxiously.

Hermione's eyebrows came to match Ron's. "What? I'm not staring at _him_; I'm staring at their potion. Don't you find it offensive that they get the more complicated potion and we get something that shouldn't even be reserved for First Years?"

Harry become apprehensive. "Hey!" He said, "I'm having trouble over here." Ron nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Me too, mate," He said to Harry, and then turned to the brunette, "I'd much rather have the easier potion – if we can't even figure this out then there's no way we'd be able to do that bloody mulberry thing they're doing."

"Memory."

"What?"

"It's a memory potion." Hermione snapped. Ron fell silent, and Harry turned back to their potion. When he added the dandelion root, the potion evaporated considerably and only a few centimetres of now-clear liquid were left at the bottom. He didn't dare ask Hermione if this was correct, so he just kept his eyes on the instructions.

After a beat, Ron gained courage to speak again. "What's the matter Hermione? You've been blunt with us ever since last lesson. Are you finding out that Ancient Runes isn't all it's cracked up to be?"

Hermione sighed, "No. I'm sorry; it's just that Dumbledore is making me spend my free periods teaching Piano lessons." Her eyes immediately shifted to Ron. The sudden eye contact made him uneasy. She noticed his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat. "Did someone tell him that I am good at Piano, Ronald?"

Ron's mouth fell open as if he was going to say something, but then it slammed back shut. After a moment, he looked straight at Harry, as if for assistance, but continued speaking anyway, "That was Harry."

Harry didn't look up from the cauldron, and said flatly, yet somewhat amused, "Don't try to lie to her, Ron, you should know by now that she knows everything."

Ron glared at his friend once, before looking back at the girl, "Well, okay, Dumbledore asked me so I told him. I didn't know he was going to make you give up your free period for it." Ron was taken aback slightly when Hermione just gave him a friendly smile – he'd expected her to be displeased with him for talking about her; he knew girls were strange creatures.

"That's alright, Ron," she said, "Because of the lessons I get extra studying privileges, even after hours." Ron sighed in relief and relaxed immensely.

"That's good," Harry spoke, suddenly looking at her and smiling. The potion seemed discarded by now. "Who will you be teaching?" His tone was curious.

Hermione's face turned sour and her tone darkened. "Malfoy." She said, exasperatedly.

"_Malfoy_?!" Ron bellowed without thinking, which landed him with stares from everyone in the classroom, a firm thump on the arm from Harry and an icy glare from Hermione. Ron's face immediately burnt up once he realised what he had done. He could feel Draco's eyes boaring into him.

"Back to work, Mr Weasley, or it will be 10 points from Gryffindor for disrupting the lesson," Snape said from the front of the classroom, his voice morose.

"Yes, sir." Ron said in a small voice, his head now bowed and his ears a ghastly shade of red. Slowly and surely, the low rumble of students talking began filling the classroom again as they began to return to their potions.

"Thanks for that, Ronald," Hermione said, sarcastically.

"Sorry," Ron said quietly, "But why do you have to teach _Malfoy_?" His face was quickly returning to its normal colour now, once his mind was off his little outburst. Hermione shrugged.

"Dumbledore didn't say."

"And you didn't ask?"

"Well, Dumbledore must have a reason," Harry spoke up, looking quite neutral. "I doubt Dumbledore would make you do this unless there was a purpose to it."

Hermione just shrugged again. She was deciding that maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell Harry and Ron about this afterall.

Just at that moment, Snape's voice bellowed across the room, "Alright class that will do. Get out of my class," and with that, everyone did.

Hermione and Draco somewhat sluggishly so, draping behind the others until they were both alone in the hallway, Draco a few metres behind Hermione, his narrowed eyes on the back of her head as she stared at her feet. They were both dreading this – even the atmosphere in the corridor was unbearable and they weren't even in the classroom yet. This would be a huge mistake on Dumbledore's part; he was the one to blame if either of them ended up hexed tonight.

When they reached the unused Astronomy classroom the silence had become deafening. Hermione entered first, disappearing into the dark doorframe and Draco stopped outside the door hesitantly. Inside, he heard her murmur a small '_lumos_' and a gentle light filled the room. He stepped in, and looked around with a face of disgust.

The room was bare and dirty – the walls had large stone tablets crumbling freely at the edges sticking out this way and that, the floorboards creaked unpleasantly and the curtains were growing mould around the dirtied windows. There was nothing in the classroom except a large black piano, a small stool to accompany it and a rickety chair in the corner that was gathering dust.

Neither said a word.

Hermione set her wand on top of the piano, sat on the stool and shuffled over to the edge until she stilled anxiously. Draco just stood in the doorway, observing her. She cleared her throat.

"Um... Well, Malfoy, I suppose you better come and sit down so we can get star–,"

Malfoy laughed manically. Hermione turned her head to look at him, her brows furrowed.

Once he had simmered, he looked her square in the face, "Sit down? Are you stupid?" Hermione's brows furrowed further in confusion, "I'm not learning this damn thing."

"But," she spoke unsurely, "I thought Professor Dumbledore said you would lose your Quidditch privileges?"

Draco laughed again, but it was more of a low chortle this time – it was full of mockery, "Do you expect me to listen to that old bat? He's useless and past his time; there's no way he–,"

"Don't say another _word _against Dumbledore or you might just leave this room without your lips." Hermione snapped, her whole body twisted on the stool so she was facing him, her expression dark and her eyes the main source of the daggers she was throwing at him.

Draco wasn't fazed. He just chuckled again, exasperatedly, "Did you honestly think I wanted to take lessons from an arrogant Mudblood?"

Hermione shot up from her stool, her small fists balled at her sides and her face turning red with rage, "_If you want to talk about arrogance, Malfoy, perhaps you should find a mirror to talk to_! And if you didn't want to take these lessons so badly why did you act like you wanted to when Dumbledore asked–,"

"I only did it to get out of Muggle Studies!" He yelled back, a sneer on his pale face, "You know, so I didn't have to learn about pathetic filthy Muggles like _you_."

Hermione's jaw ground together and the sound infuriated Draco further – yet it was enough to make him laugh. Her blood boiled with anger, "If you think that _I'm_ pathetic, you must be plain pitiful."

Draco exhaled sharply and spoke through gritted teeth, "How _dare_ you?!"

Silence fell upon them once more. The brunette just glared at the blonde, her anger fizzling into something more amusing – he wasn't worth this. She turned again on the stool until she was facing away from him, and once he was out of her frame of sight she calmed quickly. Taking her fingers up to the piano, she grazed the keys softly. And then – she played.

As soon as her fingers began gently tapping the keys, one after the other, like a smooth wave of symphonic harmonies filling the room and making their way into his ears to caress his brain softly. Any anger that Draco had previously felt had been melted away with each note that Hermione effortlessly played. The music made his chest soar and swell with contentment – he could have just closed his eyes and listened to her play forever.

Was he impressed? He was ashamed to admit he was.

He could have left; she wasn't stopping him. But something inside him didn't want to – _couldn't_, even. So for once, Draco Malfoy let his guard down, pulled over the rickety chair, and listened to her play.

* * *

_**A/N: I am sooooo sorry this took so long for me to update, guys! But school has been hectic and I have been working on some of my own original material in the hope to become a real writer some day and have people write fanfiction about my work :D doubtful but, hey!**_

_**I hope some people are still reading this, a previous review and a comment I had on the YouTube video motivated me to make this, so I hope you enjoy this instalment even though it is quite a let-down. **_

_**Much love**_

_**Kelly xxx**_


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